


Dear Tom

by Kyoki777



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Hermione Granger, F/M, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoki777/pseuds/Kyoki777
Summary: Dear Tom,It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I had a mission, just one mission. Go to the past and do what no one else could: save the wizarding world. I had to travel back in time 50 years, leave everything I had in the future, to risk it all. I thought it would be worth it. I could save so many lives, just by getting rid of one inconvenience. That's all it would take. What was one life when it could save thousands, millions of innocent lives?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinjaFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaFairy/gifts), [WildKitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitsune/gifts), [Shadowedcries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowedcries/gifts).



> Thank you to Wild Kitsune for being my beta and to Shadowedcries for the support and love. I am gifting this work to NinjaFairy who gave me the prompt for New Years. Not sure this is what you had in mind, but its what I am giving you.
> 
> Happy Birthday to our Dark Lord. May all your wishes for domination and immortality come true!

Dear Tom,

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I had a mission, just one mission. Go to the past and do what no one else could: save the wizarding world. I had to travel back in time 50 years, leave everything I had in the future, to risk it all. I thought it would be worth it. I could save so many lives, just by getting rid of one inconvenience. That's all it would take. What was one life when it could save thousands, millions of innocent lives? 

You see, where I come from, a Dark Wizard took over. He killed everyone that opposed him, caused chaos, enslaved those that he deemed unworthy. He exposed the wizarding world to the muggle world, caused a war that killed hundred of thousands. The rest were enslaved, tortured, raped, killed, but only the one that were impure, muggle born. People like me. 

I was lucky though, liberated by a rebel group called The Order of the Phoenix, run by one of the most powerful Wizards of our time, Albus Dumbledore. He got to me when I was four years old, when I first started to show signs of my magical abilities. I still remember that day, it’s the clearest thing in my childhood, the one thing in the world I'm sure that I will never forget. Not because I had been torn away from my parents, watched them die in front of my very eyes. Not because I was terrified, or hurt, not even because of the violence I witnessed that day.

No, the reason I remember that day and will never forget it, is because it was the first day that I ever saw _him_. 

I was a child, I didn’t know who he was, what he was, that his arrival was dangerous. He didn’t normally arrive to culling as the Order called it, only one children in the group exhibited abnormally strong magical prowess. He was there for two reasons, two young children, a 3 year old born in July, a half blood named Harry Potter, and a 4 year old… Me.

I remember looking up at him with fear, his deformed features were something that would fuel my nightmares for years to come. He was nothing but a figure cloaked in darkness, his features deformed by dark magic, though i didn't know it at the time. I remember him looking down at Harry Potter, tilting the child's head up. He waved a stick that looked almost like a bone over the messy haired boy, making a sound that I can only describe as disappointed. He made a gesture that the boy, Harry be sorted with a bunch of the other kids, then he turned his attention to me. 

I can still remember looking into glowing red eyes, still feel the grip of long skeletal fingers holding my chin, as he looked at me with a mixture of disgust and curiosity as he waved the stick over my head. He took a minute longer to look at me then he had the others, running diagnostic spells he didn't over the others I learned later, before he had me sorted away from the other children.

That is what I remember the most, I was alone. 

To this day I am unsure what would have happened to me if The Order hadn’t arrived, Dumbledore says that I would have died, been killed because the results showed I had extremely strong magical abilities. I believed him.

How could I not? Dumbledore and The Order raised me, they taught me everything I knew. I didn’t have parents, they were but a distant dream. I was brought up with the other children that were liberated, The Order was my only family.

They were the reason I left the future to begin with, to come to the past with one job, change the future for the better. I only had a year to complete my task, before the time turner that I wore day and night would return me to my own time, to whatever might wait for me when I got back. 

Dumbledore had explained to me that I only had a year because that was the longest amount of time that I could stay in the past without causing irreparable damage to my body. I thought it would be enough. 

I was wrong.

I had anticipated coming back to the past, of making the easiest change. It should have been simple, kill him, wait a year, go back home. 

I should have known better.

The dark wizard I was meant to save us from was you Tom, and that is why my mission was doomed from the beginning

Dumbledore had warned me that you had been a charmer. I had tried my best to prepare for it, but it wasn’t enough. I’m not sure I would have ever been truly prepared. 

You had me at hello, as much as I hate to admit it. I could understand why so many followed you in the beginning. What you believe, your convictions made sense, even though I know what you would become. I hate to admit that to myself, because I know how many lives you had ruined, how many people you had killed.

I’m not sure you would have ever noticed me if it were for the fact that when we first met you had caught me using dark magic. It had been a mistake really, I had been stalking you in Knockturn Alley, a week after I had arrived to 1945. I had made the mistake of letting my guard down, not paying attention to my surroundings. 

The time that I went back to was supposed to be safer for people like me. I found out that night it was yet another lie told to me by the order, by Dumbledore. One of many countless lies.

I had been attacked by a wizard, who had seen my muggle clothes and had decided that it was his duty to attack me. I didn’t think when he did such a thing, I merely reacted, dark magic following from the tip of my wand with ease. I killed that man, in self defense, with magic I had studied in secret, had discovered by accident.

I was good at it, and you saw that. 

I think that is why you approached me that night, why you introduced yourself to me. I could have killed you then, I should have, but something stopped me. Perhaps it was your smile, perhaps it was your looks, perhaps it was the way you looked at me, as if you were curious about me. I’m not sure, but I am grateful that I didn't attack, that I didn't kill you.

The next couple of weeks, getting to know you, learning about you, learning from you, I can honestly say that it was an experience i never thought i would enjoy. Yet I did. 

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and time flew by. You taught me so much, so much that I never would have learned without you. You saw my strengths, and you helped me grow. You didn't kill me like Dumbledore had convinced me you would. You proved to me how wrong he was about you.

Over the months, our relationship changed, I think even you felt it, though perhaps not in the same way that I did. Still, our relationship moved to something more intimate.

I’m not afraid to tell you that I fell for you Tom, I’m not ashamed of the fact. I am not sure that you are able to truly love the way others are, but I know you grew to care for me in your own way, and that is enough.

That is why I am writing this letter to you Tom, to tell you the truth. The truth about who I am, and why you will never hear from me again. 

I am the filth that you have come to hate, muggle born. Yet, you yourself have said it, I am your equal in every way. I came to the past to destroy you Tom, to make things better for the wizarding world, to save so many lives, yet I failed.

I am unsure if this letter will make any difference to you, if it will change anything but it worth a try.

I leave you tonight with a choice Tom, the choice to make different decisions then you have in my time. You can still have the power you desire, still have the life you want. 

Enclosed in this letter is the timeline of all the decisions you made, all the important things that will happen. I am not naive enough to think you will abandon your quest for domination, but I do implore you to make different choices. There are other ways to rule then fear. 

If any part of you cared for me even the tiniest bit, please at least consider my words.

After all, It is our choices  that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

Happy Birthday Tom.

Forever Yours,

Hermione Jean Granger

* * *

Tom looked down at the weathered piece of parchment in his hand, reading the letter one more time, as he did every year on this night. This was the last thing he had of her, the last bit of connection he had to the woman who had left him all those years ago, disappearing as the clock struck midnight, just as he leaned in to give her a kiss for the New Year. He had had so many plans for them, was determined to give her the world on a golden platter. After all, if there was anyone who deserved the world, it was them.

Yet, she had left, disappearing into nothing, leaving him with only a letter as an explanation to what had happened. 

He had to admit, he was angry at first, had wanted to tear the letter into pieces, to burn it into oblivion. She was filth, had abandoned him like the filth she was. Why should _he_ listen to _her_?

He wanted to destroy it, but instead, he found himself reading it again, and then again. Her words echoing in his ears though she had never truly uttered them aloud.

It was that night he had made a choice, to go about things in a different way. 

It had panned out, he had come to power so easily, it had been ridiculous. The world was at his feet, and he owed it to the notes that his time traveler had left him. He still help power over the muggles, though he made them believe it was what _they_ wanted. It was so easy, after all, people were easy to manipulate, they always had been. 

He had still been able to achieve everything he wanted, his power, his immortality, though he had stopped making horcruxes, after all, from what Hermione wrote in her notes, it had been one of the reasons he had spiraled so drastically, having seemed to lose himself to madness. He still had his immortality, had even managed to find a way to look as young as he did in his mid 20s, even though he was pushing 60.

This was the last time he would look at this letter, forty years had come and gone, and it was time to let go of the past, to look towards the future once more. 

Tom pulled out his wand, the one that Hermione had described as a bone and lit the only thing he had tying him to Hermione ablaze, watching as it disintegrated easily, burning to ash before he spelled the mess away, erasing all evidence of the girl from his life.

“Minister?” the voice of James Potter drew Tom from his thoughts, causing him to look up at the man in question. Hermione had described in her notes that James had been a loyal follower of Dumbledore in her time, but with Dumbledore unable to spread his lies, James was free from his grasp. Tom was grateful for that, after all, the Potters were quite useful. “I have the Grangers here for you Sir” 

Tom nodded, casting the man a smile “Thank you James, please, escort them in” he said as he got up from his desk. He watched as the couple in question walked into his office, followed by a little girl with wild brown locks and large honey brown eyes. He came out from behind his desk, crossing the room and greeting her parents

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I am so glad that you could meet me today. I have been eager to meet with you and your daughter to discuss her future as I explained to you in my letters” Tom said, shaking both of the muggles hands before her turned his attention to the child in question.

He had watched her throughout the years, had corresponded with her parents when she had first gotten her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. He had sent James to explain to her parents that she was very talented, that she would be going to an elite school, that Tom himself would be funding her education, would be apprenticing her during the holidays so that he could insure a bright future for the girl. 

He looked down at the 12 year old in question, offering her his hand, amused that she took it with no hesitation “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Hermione, I have much to teach you.”

Looking at the girl in question, he could help but think that she had not failed after all. She had managed to kill Voldemort, had managed to save the wizarding world. And now, now he would be able to give her the world she deserved. He would once again tutor her, help her become the dark young witch he had once known, and this time, no one would be able to stop them.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason ya'll are getting this second chapter is because im a dumbass and read my own story without realizing it was my story. I wanted more. So.. yeah. I wrote it.  
> This chapter is also a part of the 365 hp writing challenge.  
> So... Two birds.  
> Enjoy

_“I’m not a little girl anymore Tom.”_

The words reverberated in his head, a taunt, a curse, a blessing. Tom Riddle took a sip of his fire whiskey, staring at the fire before him quietly, thinking upon the words his protégé had spoken to him just hours before.

She had been angry at him, that he kept things from her, that he protected her. How could he tell her the truth? That nearly 60 years ago now, she had come to him, from a different timeline all together, had made him love her, had given him the keys to the kingdom, and then left, taking his heart with her? How could he explain to her that he had sought her out for that reason, to find her again, to give her the life she deserved.

How would she react?

It had been a question he asked himself daily, ever since her 16th birthday. He knew she was no longer a little girl, at the age of 20 she was a woman now, had ben for a long time. He longed for her, like he had all those years ago, but to give in would mean he would need to reveal the truth.

She would find out eventually otherwise, there were too many signs, too many memories, ones he refused to get rid of.

With a sigh he polished off the drink and placed the glass on the table. He got up, leaning over the fireplace, staring into the flames, his mind lost in his own thoughts.

All he knew was he could not lose her again.

He heard the door creak softly, heard her footsteps, but he did not turn around. He knew who was there, though he wasn’t sure why. She had made it quite clear she was furious with him for keeping her at arm’s length.

He didn’t speak, letting the silence fall over them like a blanket, his back turned to her. It weighed them down, heavy, suffocating. Until finally she spoke up, her voice soft, gentle.

“Tom, I’m sorry.” Hermione said, and he could just imagine the sincerity in her eyes, the concern on her sweet face. It had been something he had never been able to cure her of, her heart. He wasn’t sure he would want to anymore, after all, she wouldn’t be his Hermione if she was cold and callous, uncaring. “I’m just so tired of you holding me at arm’s length. You act as if I’m so much more, and the second that I get close to you, you push me away. I don’t _understand_.”

He didn’t say anything, not trusting himself to speak. If he did, he would confess everything to her, he knew that. The sound of her footsteps drawing closer made him turn around, her body so much closer than he had thought.

She looked up at him, her eyes showing her concern, “You’ve been drinking.” It was a fact, not a question still he felt compelled to answer it.

“Yes.”

“Because of our fight?”

Again, he felt compelled to answer, and a part of his brain wondered if it was a potion she had slipped into his fire whiskey, though he knew it was really the fact that she was looking at him like that, combined with the alcohol and the overwhelming scent of her assaulting his senses.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

There it was, the question he feared, the decision he had to make. He had spent so many years training her, guiding her, making the world a place she could live in, thrive in. He had seized it for her, for them, yet now, when she was ready for it, he kept it from her.

“I know you are not a little girl anymore.” His eyes ran over her body, and he cursed mentally at the way she must seem him, an old man, even though he looked to be in his thirties, ogling her, taking in the curves of her beneath her white night dress. Why had she worn such a thing to his study anyways? She looked so innocent, and a dark part of him wanted to tear that innocence away, to find the woman he had loved all those years ago, to love the woman she was today.

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s why I have been drinking. You are right, I have been keeping things from you, holding back from you, though it is not because I think of you as a child, or not worthy.” He reached out, cupping her chin, tilting her head up. “You are the only one who ever was worthy. The only one who ever will be” He could see the confusion in her face, his alcohol-soaked brain not making sense to her. He sighed, “I don’t want to lose you again, but I can only hope for the best. You asked me for this, and I promised you long ago I would give you everything you wanted.”

He remembered that day, a few days before she had left, how he had promised her the world, to give her everything and anything her heart desired. She had smiled at him then, a mischievous look on her face. She had asked him then for one thing. A kiss. He had given it to her gladly.

This was a different version of the same girl. And though he had watched this version grow up, he knew in his heart she would want this, even if doubt tried to tell him otherwise.

It was the alcohol that made him act, his lips claiming her own. It was not a soft kiss, it was hard, and rough, and sloppy. It was a kiss of lost time, of need. It was one she returned willingly., those soft fingers in his hair and her body pressed flush against his own.

He had waited so long for her, so long for this, but he had to wait a little longer, he knew that. HE forced himself to break the kiss, both of them gasping for air. She looked up at him, an unasked question on her lips. He shook his head, stepping back from her, though it was physically painful for him to do so.

“Take out your wand.”

“W-What? Why?”

“Just do it.” He said firmly.

His Hermione hesitated for a second, but she did as he told her, and he took her hand in his own, pointing the wand at his head. She held it steady, though her face showed her worry.

“Tom, why ar-“

He cut her off “I have many things I need to tell you, and words won’t cut it. This is something I would never do with anyone else.” He stated as he started to think of the past, of how he first met her 60 years ago. “You know how to use the spell. You’ve done it before, on the Weasley boy, on Malfoy.”

He wasn’t sure her eyes could get wider, but somehow, they had. She looked ready yo refuse him.

“Do it Dove. Now.” It was a command, sharp, not to be dismissed.

She squared her shoulders, looking into his eyes.

  _“Legilimens”_


End file.
